


Conversations with Maniacs

by galaxy_eye



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2087049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxy_eye/pseuds/galaxy_eye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of one-shots involving the GotG heroes. Anthology.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Feel the Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Star Lord, Rocket, Drax  
> Genre: humor and friendship  
> Rating: K

Peter Quill sat in the cockpit of the Milano, tapping his fingers to the feel-good groove of "Come and Get Your Love".

Rocket Raccoon leaned back in the oversized seat next to Quill and motioned his toes to the beat. "Not bad," the raccoon said, "Kind of makes you feel all warm inside, just like the smell of burning circuits and smoldering metal."

Quill glanced at Rocket. "Remember that engine coil you removed from my ship and attached to your fancy new weapon?"

"You mean this thing?"

Rocket pulled a contraption seemingly out of nowhere and waved it in the air. It looked like a ball with spikes coming out of it. With no apparent barrel or trigger, there was no doubt in Quill's mind that it was capable of blowing up the ship.

Quill sat up wide eyed and nervously smiled. "Yeah, that thing. Now why don't you put it down, gently, and put the coil back where it belongs before you blow us into space. Sounds like a deal?"

Drax had just walked through the cockpit doors looking intense as always. "Do as Star Lord says," the warrior growled.

Rocket stood on the chair and balanced the contraption on a palm. "Please, I'm a professional."

"Rodent," Drax muttered as he made his way to the console. He glanced at Quill, "How much further till—"

"Wow, wow, _wow_ ," Rocket said waving his tiny hand. " _Excuse me?_ "

Quill rolled his eyes. "Not again."

"What did you call me?"

Drax slowly turned to the raccoon and edged closer until their noses were inches apart. The warrior's eyes were stone cold like he wanted to eat the small creature whole. Rocket was showing teeth, claws primed to gouge eyes.

"Ro… _dent_." Drax smiled. His eyes lingered over the small beast, waiting for the predicted reaction.

Rocket’s fur stood on end; his eyes becoming narrow black slits as he glared at the man many times his size. The raccoon’s expression suddenly softened and he threw the contraption over his shoulder. "Ahh, you ain't worth it.” He jumped down from the seat as Quill leapt up from his to catch the would-be bomb from hitting the ground. Rocket muttered something incomprehensible as he exited the cockpit and closed the door behind him.

Recovering from what felt like a heart-attack, Quill rested Rocket's contraption on the dashboard then gave Drax a look of disappointment. "You know he's sensitive with the name calling."

"He is tiny and infantile. He is also hairy and has an off-putting odor."

Quill was never one to keep order. He pretty much grew up on a ship where the only thing that mattered was the next job and his share of the profits. But it was different now. This was _his_ team; the Guardians of the Galaxy. He had responsibilities or something right?

Quill patted the empty seat. "Take a seat my friend. I want you to listen to something."

Drax raised a brow as if he knew he was going to be appalled by the human's strange melodies. After a moment, the warrior sat down stiffly, ready to stand back up again.

"Relax," Quill said as he flipped to the next track. He started bobbing his head to the introduction.

"What is the task I am to do?" Drax asked.

"Just, you know, listen. Feel the beat, loosen up a little." Quill gently punched Drax in the shoulder, which he immediately regretting doing as the green warrior glared at him.

Drax blinked, "'Feel the beat'...'Loosen up'…I am unfamiliar with these techniques."

Quill let the music take him and he started singing, " _I can't stop this feeling… deep inside of me…_ " He looked at Drax who looked perplexed as ever. " _When you hold me_ … common Drax… _in your arms so tight_ … _you let me know_ … _everything's alright_." As the chorus hit, Quill dramatically stood up from the seat and sung into a fist. "Say it with me Drax, _I'm hooked on a feeling_ …"

"I'm hooked on a feeling…" the warrior said in a monotone voice.

" _I'm high on believing_ …"

"I'm high on believing…"

" _That you're in love with me!_ "

"That you're… but I'm not in love with you."

Quill chuckled. "It's just a song man. You're not singing to me. You're singing _with_ me."

"Oh."

"Get it?"

"No."

It was an interesting moment to say the least, but it was safe to say that a wall, or at least a brick, that was in between Quill and his crew had broken away. He had a feeling that he would grow close to these people—maniacs, the ones on the broken end of life, and they'd become the closest thing to family he'd ever know.

 


	2. Faces in the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Star-Lord (main focus), Gamora, Groot, Rocket, Drax  
> Genre: drama and action  
> Rated: T for mature themes and cursing

Not much can be said for heroism when the hero's path is lonely and the only observers are the distance stars. It's easy to let yourself go and pretend like nothing matters anymore. When the fuel's almost gone and the weapon's array is shooting dust, there's only one thing to do: head nose first into the heart of it, of the enemy ship high above. Green and blue balls of light wiz past Star Lord's ship; he strafes left and right, the lights scrape his hull but they are nothing to him but raindrops in a storm. The question of why he hasn't exploded yet crosses his mind but it doesn't need an answer. He already knows why with every thrust of acceleration, with every turn of the controls; he is unstoppable.

His right wing blows away but Star Lord does not flinch. He's getting closer to the beast's heart and suddenly, he starts to remember. The faces of his crew appear in fleeting paintings, quickly moving further away and disappearing into the corners of his mind. Though he searches for those thoughts, his body is resolute as he continues flying forward. He finds a memory. Gamora is looking out a window.

"And when I saw you floating in space, I didn't care about dying. I just wanted to save you."

"Are you trying to romanticize me again, Star Lord?"

"No…I—"

"Because I told you before that I wouldn't tolerate that kind of sorcery."

He remembers her adorable frown but the image fades. The pictures are passing too quickly and Star Lord cannot find the best moment to remember before he dies. More shapes form in the darkness.

"You see on Earth, we have trees everywhere. They line up side by side for miles upon miles."

"I am Groot…"

"And when we need to build something, we chop them down. Hack, hack!"

"I am Groot!"

"But we always put the wood to good use, you know? Like for baseball bats, golf tees and really sturdy fences. Of course if our trees walked and talked like you, I'd imagine there'd be a tree country and all the trees would go there to be safe."

"I am Groot."

"Yeah, that would be something, wouldn't it?"

Groot is smiling but a burst of light shatters the image—Star Lord's ship shakes violently. The front window is cracking; another impact and it will shatter, but it doesn't matter now; he's too close to stop. Star Lord closes his eyes.

"Comon, Rocket. I'm not trying to be insensitive. I'm just curious."

"I was an accident, okay? There, I said it. I was the result of a mechanical malfunction and tasked with caring for a bunch of loony-bins. Ask me how fun that was. Lots of other shit happened and then I ended up here, with you."

"Because I'm charming and an all-around, good guy?"

"No, you're a damn lunatic. But it just so happens you vaguely know where you're going in life. And I…well I guess I don't mind being on that path for a while until I figure out my own path."

Star Lord is so close to the enemy ship now. He sees the texture of its hull; jutting and uneven like the hide of a demon. But Star Lord is smiling. There isn't one, perfect memory to remember. They all have to be remembered; every laugh, every frown. They all form something Star Lord cannot describe, but it makes him smile. Maybe it's simply happiness. Does it have to be more complicated?

A blinding light engulfs him and Star Lord feels his body being torn in every direction. Whether he opens or closes his eyes, all he sees is white light. Is this finally the end?

"But you, Star Lord, you are a reckless fool, even more than I. I for one will not forget what you've done, what you've sacrificed. You are a true warrior, and I…I am glad to have known you as a friend."

Star Lord sees Drax's face above him but it's muddled like a sight through water. The tattooed warrior becomes wide eyed.

"He—he has not succumbed to death! Star Lord!"

The images of the rest of his crew appear but something is different. The shapes and colors do not fade like before.

"Peter."

Gamora is above him now, touching his cheek, stroking his hair. Star Lord feels the warmth of her hands, and he realizes this is no memory. He's breathing heavily; the pain is excruciating. His comrades have saved him, but how? There are too many questions—so many feelings he cannot describe, but none of that matters right now. He just wants to see their faces, those unwavering faces.

 


	3. Red Veil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Starlord, Gamora, Rocket, Groot, Drax  
> Genre: action, drama, romance  
> Rated: T

Why does he look at us with such eyes, glowing red with hatred and fury? I want to see his smile again—the kind that makes me feel both safe and untrustworthy of his boyish charms all at once. It's all gone as he stares at me now, eyes like a demon's and lips, frigid and lifeless. He's pointing a gun at me from afar but he does not speak. Tell us what we did wrong. Tell us what has happened to make you this way. Had I not known him for so many years, my blade would be at his neck. It is still sheathed, so I ask you, Peter Quill, do not give me reason to use it.

There is lava surrounding us, the planet is dying. Yet here the four of us stand against one. Is this really the end of the Guardians? Either he destroys us or we destroy him, and for the rest of our lives we live with what we have done.

"Gamora!" Rocket shouts to me from a far. "Draw his fire. We will jump him from behind."

I cannot move. I keep shouting at Starlord but he does not speak to us. Why do you turn on us? Answer me! He is about to pull the trigger—dash away Gamora, dash now. I see a ball of energy hurl towards me but I am still. A moment passes and I open my eyes to realize I am still alive. Groot is in front of me, smoking from his bark. Rocket is on his shoulder.

"Snap out of whatever trance you're in damnit," Rocket tells me. "Hey, hey, hey!" He's snapping his fingers. "Me that way,  _you_  that way. Got it?"

"I cannot harm him," I tell Rocket.

The creature is furious. "So you'd rather sit there and die?" Another volley strikes Groot from the back but he stands his ground. Rocket jumps down in front of me and stares at me in hopelessness. "I don't want to do this either, but there's no other way."

Groot groans in pain and the pair dash to the left to begin their assault. I unsheathe my blade and roll away to avoid Starlord's gunfire. I will not destroy you Peter, but I will not let you hurt our friends either.

I sprint up the hill, jumping over streams of lava. Starlord is standing at its peak, unscathed by the spewing hot lava at his feet as if he was merged with chaos itself. Are you in there Peter? The same man who makes me feel like I have never felt before. Time and loneliness had cocooned me into something unfeeling and wretched, but you found a way through. It is a strange feeling, to be held, to be kissed under the light of the galaxy. But with you, it's something I know is right and worth fighting for. So Peter, are you there?

I am like the wind as I sprint towards the man in red. I ready my sword and prepare myself to disable his arms. I see a blinding flash before I feel myself hit the ground and have the breath explode from my lungs. My chest burns and I scream. So many years of watching me fight—he can read me so well. He knew every step I was taking towards him. I see Groot jumping in the air as Rocket rains down gunfire, but Peter is moving so quickly, it's almost inhuman. Peter waves a glowing red hand upwards and a stream of lava explodes from the surface and engulfs Groot and Rocket. I want to scream again but there is too much pain.

He's walking towards me now. I try to see Groot and Rocket but they are somewhere on the other side of the hill. Starlord is standing over me, staring at me with red eyes. It's okay Peter. I know it's not you doing this. Those aren't your eyes.

"Peter," I tell him gently. "I know you're there, Peter. I forgive what you're about to do."

The man tilts his head curiously. His lips curl into a devious smile and as the corners of his eyes wrinkle, I notice something. It is wrapped around his head like a circlet but in the colour of his skin so I could not see it before. This is the device controlling him, stopping him from seeing who we really are.

Drax appears behind Peter with twin blades raised, ready to be thrust into Peter's back. The blades begin to fall.

"No!" I shout. "His eyes! It's over his eyes!"

Drax adjusts his blades in mid-fall as Peter spins around. The blades slash across his face and I see blood spray. I try to keep my eyes open but I am losing consciousness. Darkness takes me.

In the corners of my mind, images start to form, and then I finally see them. I see Peter's true eyes and his candid smile.

"Where have you been, Gamora?" Peter asks me. "We were waiting."

"I..." I look at the ground but there isn't one. It's only blackness. "I was trying to save you."

He looks to the distance as if he didn't hear me. "I want to take you somewhere," he says.

"Where?"

"A place where I can see you laugh."

"When?"

Peter smiles. "When you decide to wake up."

"What if I don't want to?"

The image of Peter fades and I feel reality surround me. Joyful voices emerge. They are familiar. I don't want to open my eyes and not see your face. Can you promise me you're there, Peter? You can see me laugh. I'll laugh everyday with you.


End file.
